


El tiempo nos volverá a juntar

by antonivs



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Andrés POV, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I wish this was a fix-it but it's not, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antonivs/pseuds/antonivs
Summary: He was doing this for him, so that he could go on with his life, so that his soul wouldn’t wither with his own.Andrés and Martín's goodbye told by Andrés' point of view.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	El tiempo nos volverá a juntar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this is my first work in this fandom and the first fic in English I've ever published, so I'm a bit nervous.  
> I tried to tell this scene by Andrés' POV because it fascinates me deeply and I rarely saw anything told by his POV. Hope you enjoy the fic and if you wanna rant about these two gays my Twitter is @visixnshart
> 
> I dedicate this to all my Twitter mutuals who are literally my only source of happiness these days! Special thanks to Inez who was the sweetest and decided to beta this!

_Yo también siento que lo que hay entre t_ _ú_ _y yo es algo extraordinario, único, maravilloso.  
Y algo sé del amor, que me he casado cinco veces. Lo que no te he dicho nunca es que con ninguna de esas mujeres he sentido remotamente algo semejante a lo que me pasa contigo.  
_ _Ni de lejos._

Martín had been the one who had started the kiss, passionate at first, his hands caressing the back of Andrés’ head, then softer and softer until his lips hadn’t touched the other man’s anymore. Andrés could’ve left it at that. He could’ve. But he didn’t and instead he pushed him against the cold wall of their room and started kissing him back, with a strength he’d never used before, letting Martín’s perfume pervade his senses and tasting every inch of his mouth.

Truth to be told, he was only supposed to have a simple talk with Martín, explaining why he had to leave him, telling him about his disease and that he preferred to say goodbye to him now and not when it would’ve been much harder for both of them. But that didn’t happen exactly as he had planned it either. He had realised Martín loved him too much to even consider accepting that. He had realised Martín was his reason to keep on living just as much as he would’ve been Martín’s reason to die and he couldn’t let that happen. So he had decided to break his heart instead. Something much more trying but way more effective. And now he was there, his face pressed against his engineer’s, holding onto him like he was holding onto life. But he had to let it go.

“ _Es imposible._ ” He whispered to him, their lips still incredibly close, his eyes still deep into Martín’s pleading ones, that were now filling with tears, as the younger man begged him with his whole body to stay with him a bit longer.

He couldn’t help leaving a last tender kiss on Martín’s trembling lips, gently trying to dry his tears with his thumb and tracing his wet cheeks with his hands, in a desperate effort to memorise every tiny detail of his face. Then, finally, he managed to step away from him and it was like half of his heart got ripped from his chest: he was leaving behind the man who completed him, who fully understood him in a way that even Sergio couldn’t understand him.

“ _Te quiero,_ _Mart_ _ín._ ”

He mentally cursed himself when he realised he had tears in his eyes. He was usually able to control his body, his every gesture, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant. But on the other hand he had never experienced something like this. Never.

He decided to turn around while informing Martín they had to part ways and forget about their plan. He couldn’t face him while telling him the poem they were writing together had to be destroyed and he was glad he wasn’t facing him when Martín reminded him that what they were planning wasn’t a simple heist, it was their work of art, their romantic eulogy to life and beauty. It only took Martín a sentence to remind him of that and Andrés felt like he’d been shot through the heart.

“ _Yo te propuse fundir oro juntos_.”

At that point, he yelled at him. He’d never done that before. He yelled at him but he still didn’t turn to look him in the eyes. He knew that if he saw Martín’s devastated expression, the tears running down his cheeks, his chest going up and down desperately grasping for air, he’d do everything in his power to make it all stop. His soulmate was being wounded and he was the one holding the knife and he hated it. The worst thing was that he could feel every strike on himself too.

Martín went quiet after that and Andrés closed his eyes for a second, trying to summon every last bit of courage he had left. He was doing this for him, so that he could go on with his life, so that his soul wouldn’t wither with his own.

He finally turned around to face him, one last time. He genuinely believed what he was saying. He was leaving him for love, for the bond they shared, that transcended every other form of human bond. He was leaving so that they could both find peace during the years they still had left on earth, few for him and more, he hoped, for Martín. And then, one way or the other, they would find each other again, to live together as one soul at last, as they were always meant to live.

“ _Adiós, amigo mío. Estoy seguro de que...de una forma u otra, el tiempo nos volverá a juntar_.”

He smiled one last time, making sure that that was the last picture of him Martín would get: someone who was happy, confident, at peace with himself and full of life. That was the image he wanted to leave Martín, the image of the man he fell in love with and not the one his disease was going to create. He took one last look at Martín and then he left, never daring to look back.

The air outside the monastery was chilly, there were no clouds and the stars and moon shined stronger than usual in the dark sky above. Andrés noticed he still had that confident smile on his face, but his sight was clouded by tears. At that point he let his mask drop and warm tears started streaming down his cold cheeks. He collapsed against the monastery’s stone wall, breathing heavily, his shaking hands reaching his head and knocking over his hat. He stayed there as long as it took to calm himself down, reliving every instant of his last moments with Martín, over and over.

Then, when he felt completely numb, both physically and emotionally, he got up, dried his tears with his silk handkerchief, and picked up his hat. Finally, as he welcomed back his mask and his charming grin went back to lighting up his face without reaching his eyes, he started down the road to go and meet with Tatiana.

_Tú y yo somos almas gemelas.  
__El tiempo nos volverá a juntar_.


End file.
